


Masks

by SilverDagger



Category: Final Fantasy Tactics
Genre: Drabble, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 18:04:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1559255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverDagger/pseuds/SilverDagger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>What is true of war is too often true of court, and Ovelia is grateful for any armor.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masks

This much is easy: the costume, the mask. Ovelia knows her lines, the sound and shape of them, the steps and motions of her role. She comports herself with grace, armed with a politician's weapons. There is power in appearances.

Sir Agrias taught her that, binding the lacing on her gown, braiding gold-flecked ribbons into her hair: show strength, and they will not think to look for weakness. What is true of war is too often true of court, and Ovelia is grateful for any armor.

It is only afterward that is difficult, with no role to play, no script to follow. Only the princess and her knight and the solitude of the convent, cathedral silence and the shadow of a God who turned his face away from the world long ago. She hears of war, famine, a country rife with banditry, and she paces between stone walls, safe as a cat on a satin pillow, every bit as trapped.

 _I would protect you,_ Agrias says, when Ovelia asks her what she dreams of. _I would be your blade, I would serve –_

“Only that? Is there nothing else?”

Instead of answering, Agrias averts her eyes, and when she speaks again, it is softly, with great care. “What is it you dream of, milady?”

“Freedom,” Ovelia says, and Agrias bows her head, says stiffly, “I cannot offer you that.”

“Then be my blade,” Ovelia says. “And one day, I will claim it for the both of us.”


End file.
